Chapter 5: Already One of Us

In a quiet morning, gentle breezes slipped between the trees, carrying with them the fragrance of dew and the serenity of nature. Without telling anyone, Ash left with light steps toward the Spirit Kingdom, driven by the cryptic words Freya had whispered to her the night before. She left behind nothing but an unexpected emptiness, a faint trace in the air—as if she had never been there at all.

With the rising of the sun the next day, L stood on a wooden balcony overlooking the training grounds. Her eyes silently followed the shadows moving below, where Y was training Diona. A faint smile crossed her face as she whispered to herself:

L (quietly): Looks like he’s regained his strength…

The scene shifted to the grounds. Dry leaves rustled with Diona’s steps as she gave it her all, trying to land a hit on Y—yet in vain. He moved with such agility it was as though the wind itself whispered to him where her strikes would come from.

Y (calmly): Seems you’ve been training well… Your reflexes are excellent. With time, they’ll become your greatest weapon, even against the fiercest fighters.

Diona (grumbling): What’s with this? I can’t even touch you! You dodge every attack as if you’re reading my mind!

Y (simply): It’s all in body movement… I can predict your strike before it even begins.

As Diona pressed on with renewed effort, Anna emerged from between the trees. Her face carried a warm smile, filled with both nostalgia and pride.

Anna: It makes me happy to see you like this—alive and full of life.

Y (smiling): And I’m happy to see you too, Anna.

They stepped toward each other and embraced in silence. A short moment, yet heavy with memories that needed no words.

Anna (gently): It’s been a long time since we last met.

Y (thoughtful): Yes… I think three months.

Anna (lightly laughing): Three months?! For me, it’s been two years, Y.

Y’s eyes widened in shock.

Y: Two years? But… I only appeared in this world three months ago.

Anna (crossing her arms): Strange… Everyone else who appeared in this world did so two years ago.

Y (in a low voice): Interesting…

Anna (teasing): Seems like all the strange things happen to you—even in this world!

At that moment, L approached quietly, her steps unnoticed, joining the conversation.

L (inquiring): Strange things? Do you mean the fact that he can’t use magic?

Anna responded immediately, her eyes glimmering with thought:

Anna: Actually, it was natural for everyone to expect that. What’s illogical is for him to wield magic as if it were ordinary. This world reflects the depths of our souls—but it also tests us, sometimes by throwing us into places where survival is anything but easy.

Anna (softly): The important thing is, you’re here now. You should visit Aris and the others soon.

Y: I will… But first, there are matters I’d like to discuss.

Anna (curious): Such as?

Y: I want to speak with Licht and Freya.

Anna: I see. Wait here for a moment.

The scene shifted to the edge of the forest, where rays of sunlight intertwined with the shadows of the trees, painting fractured patterns of light and shade upon the ground. There, Y stood before Licht and Freya.

Freya (with a calm smile): I heard you wanted to speak with us?

Y (seriously): I have some questions…

He turned first to Licht.

Y: What do you think of my fighting style? Did you notice anything in our bout?

Licht fell silent for a moment, as if weighing his words with care, then replied:

Licht: And why do you want to know?

Y (calmly): There are two ways to learn from battle… The first is to lose, and grow stronger. The second—

Licht (smiling): The second is to learn from the fight itself.

He nodded firmly.

Licht: I like the way you think. In this world, second chances are rare. Learning from each battle is the best one can do.

Y: True…

Licht: If I had to mention a flaw… it’s that you don’t use magic. But that weapon of yours will help you overcome many obstacles—you just need to uncover its secrets.

Y (with interest): So you noticed it too…

Licht: The voice of the wind told me. Your weapon absorbs magic, and you may find a way to wield that power in your own style. I’d advise you to visit the Dwarf Kingdom.

Y: Understood… What about my combat style?

Licht: Your style is unique… You don’t need much training. Your adaptability is extraordinary.

Y (smiling): Thank you.

His gaze then shifted to Freya, his expression serious.

Y: My second question… Where did Ash go?

Freya (calmly): To the Spirit Kingdom.

Y: Why?

Freya: It seems a coup took place there. The first prince was imprisoned… and Ash went to investigate it herself.

Y’s brows lifted slightly, as if he had expected a different answer.

Y: I thought you’d be reluctant to speak of this…

Freya (confidently): There’s no need for secrets. Ash is my friend… That’s why I’ll gladly help her.

She raised her hand gently, and from above, twisted roots descended, carrying with them an ancient map.

Freya: This is the map to the Spirit Kingdom.

Y (bowing slightly): Thank you…

After a brief pause, Y walked toward Anna.

Y: I’ll be taking Diona with me for a while.

Anna (playfully): That’s fine. Diona, listen to your big brother, alright?

Diona (eagerly): Yes!

Y: I’d like to train a little here first.

Freya: Anna, Licht… if you wish, you can go with him. I’ll guard the forest myself.

Licht: I have no need to join them. I’ll remain here.

Anna (with a nod): Thank you.

The trio gathered before Y: Anna, L, and Diona. Y stretched his arm slightly and spoke with a calm smile:

Y: Go on ahead. I’ll train a little, then catch up.

Anna glanced at her companions.

Anna: Are you two ready to depart?

L nodded firmly and stepped forward first, while Diona held the map carefully in her hands. Together, the three set off toward the Spirit Kingdom, leaving Y in the training grounds, his feet planted firmly upon the earth… preparing for another round of training, and the decisions yet to come.

After several days…

In a heavy silence, Ash appeared, walking with steady steps toward a small lake whose waters shimmered like polished glass, reflecting the azure sky and its drifting white clouds. She stopped at the center of the water, the breeze brushing through the ends of her hair, her eyes fixed upon the massive gate that rose before her—pure white, as though carved from frozen light.

On either side of the gate stood two spirit sentinels. Their forms glowed with a pure aura, and their eyes gleamed like crystal.

Ash (sternly): I want to enter the kingdom.

The guardian studied her carefully, then bowed slightly.

Guardian: Identify yourself.

Ash: My name… is Ash.

The guardian stepped back, his voice low but carrying a mysterious note of respect:

Guardian: You may enter.

The massive gate trembled and began to open slowly, accompanied by the toll of a deep bell that echoed through the air, as if the entire kingdom had awakened at that sound.

The Spirit Kingdom

Another world entirely, wrapped in white light, surrounded by towering walls that gleamed like crystal barriers, separating it from all other realms. The architecture blended nature with sacred design: colossal tree trunks intertwined with marble pillars, while crystalline roofs hung with glowing plants swayed gently in the air. At the heart of the kingdom lay a vast square, opening into three enormous gates, each leading toward a different wing of the distant royal palace.

Ash moved forward cautiously toward the square, where a massive crowd of spirits had gathered. Tension filled the air, etched into every face.

One of the guards (in a stern voice): A royal decree has just been issued… No one enters or leaves without permission. Whoever disobeys… faces execution!

Shouts of outrage erupted from the crowd, cries of protest filling the atmosphere, while soldiers encircled the people with weapons glowing with light.

The herald (with a ringing voice): Anyone who dares oppose the decree… shall be executed before all!

At the front stood a knight, and behind him a group of citizens bound by glowing chains, fear etched upon their faces.

Ash’s lips trembled as she restrained her fury, her eyes flickering like sparks on the verge of an explosion. Then she turned toward the palace, striding swiftly forward, her steps untouched by hesitation.

Inside the Royal Palace

The grand doors opened of their own accord, leading Ash into corridors lit with celestial radiance, guiding her straight toward the throne. There, upon a magnificent seat carved from white crystal, sat the king. His features were calm, but his eyes were as cold as unmelting ice.

King (smiling slyly): It has been a long time since I last saw you, Ash…

Ash (sharply): Spare me. What are you doing? And where is Alfred?

King (with chilling composure): Alfred? He abdicated the throne of his own free will.

Her eyes widened in shock.

Ash: What?! Do you take me for a fool? Where is he?!

King (with arrogant calm): In the dungeon.

Ash (stunned, her voice nearly breaking into a roar): …What did you say?!

The king waved his hand, his voice rising in command.

King: Arrest her.

Ash’s eyes flared, and in an instant, whirlwinds of flame and white clouds erupted around her, blasting away the guards who tried to bind her. They fell one after another—yet suddenly, her body froze, as though the ground itself had seized her.

From the tiles beneath her feet, a glowing magic circle surged upward, its golden lines weaving into a perfect cage that locked around her body.

Ash (screaming, struggling to ignite her magic): …I really hate these circles!

King (with a wicked smile): This is the Spirit Kingdom… and this trap was crafted precisely to capture the strong and strip them of their magic.

Then his voice rang with final authority:

King: Take her to the dungeon… We still have need of her power.

L, Anna, and Diona arrived at the sealed gates of the Spirit Kingdom. Towering and radiant, the gate shimmered like white crystal, threads of pure light flowing across its surface. Stern-faced guards stood before it, their glowing weapons raised.

One of the guards thrust his spear forward, his voice sharp:

Guard: “Take another step… and we’ll end you where you stand!”

Anna (with visible worry): “Did Ash make it inside?”

Guard (coldly): “There’s no need to answer—”

Before he could finish, the guards lunged at them. But their blades never reached.

A heavy voice cut through the air, calm yet thunderous, like lightning before the storm:

??? “So this… is the Gate of the Spirit Realm?”

Everything froze. The very air seemed to thicken. From the shadows emerged Y, moving with deliberate steps, his eyes gleaming with a killing frost.

One guard tried to raise his weapon—only for a flash of steel to press against his throat before he could blink.

Y (coldly): “Any movement… means your death.”

Guard (mocking, though his body trembled): “You think an ordinary sword can kill us?”

He lunged. But the world itself seemed to slow. Y shifted a single step, sidestepped the blow, and answered with a strike so swift the guard collapsed instantly, powerless.

The others recoiled, breath trembling in their chests.

Y (voice sharp enough to pierce the silence): “Where is Ash?”

Guard (shaking): “S-She’s inside… The king ordered her imprisoned!”

Y’s eyes narrowed, and each step he took forward thundered heavier than drums. The guards shrank back instinctively.

Guards (voices cracking as they tried to bar his path): “You can’t open the gate from here! It requires royal permission!”

L and Anna (in unison, their voices cutting through): “Silence!”

Y raised his weapon before the gate. A strange light flickered along its edge. With both hands, he lifted it high—then struck with his full force.

The world shook. The spiritual walls that shielded the gate fractured, cracks glowing like lightning across the crystal surface. With a booming roar, the gate began to part, its collapse echoing through the entire kingdom.

On the other side of the vast square, the people of the Spirit Realm stood in petrified silence. The white heavens above reflected against the towering walls, and every breath was held captive.

At the center, the Spirit King stood upon a high platform, his gaze cold, merciless. By his side, a long line of rebels knelt in chains of glowing magic, execution pillars rising before them.

Deep beneath the square, in the shadowed dungeon, Ash sat bloodied yet unbroken. Her body was battered, but her eyes burned sharp, defiance unshaken. In the dim light, she seemed a lone flame refusing to die.

Then the king’s voice rang out, thunder rolling across the crystalline city:

King (authoritative, booming):

“This is the fate of all who oppose me… Begin the executions.”

Magical blades moved toward the prisoners’ throats. The moment felt final—inevitable.

But then…

The kingdom trembled. A strange rumble, as if a thousand doors opened at once, made the very ground quake. The people looked up, terror in their eyes—then fell into dead silence.

A human appeared in the center of the square.

Ash’s lips trembled, blood shining on her face under the dim light. Her whisper barely escaped her throat:

Ash (whispering): “…Y?”

The king lifted his sword, intent on carrying out the sentence himself to display his authority. He stepped forward, blade raised high—

But before it could fall, time itself seemed to stutter.

In a blink, Y stood before him. No one saw him move. The square drowned in silence.

Y (low voice, gaze like a blade piercing the king): “Are you the one in charge here?”

The king tried to reply with confidence, though a tremor broke through his tone:

King: “I am the King—”

But the words never finished.

A sudden strike—Y’s fist crashed against his face. The Spirit King was hurled backward violently, shards of his crystalline body cracking as he fell. The royal chains shattered, scattering across the ground.

Gasps of horror erupted through the crowd. Their king—struck down before their eyes, in his own throne, powerless to resist.

Anna (firmly): “We need to head to the Spirit Dungeon. Y will handle this place.”

And so, the echoes of battle spread through the Spirit Kingdom… Y’s clash against the King and his soldiers had only just begun.

Amid the echoes of explosions shaking the kingdom, the group pressed forward through the shadowed corridors. The walls trembled with each clash above, dust raining down from the ceiling with every violent tremor.

In the grand square, Y advanced with steady steps toward the fallen king. Sweat mingled with the king’s blood as he crawled backward in terror, the eyes of the people fixed on the scene in stunned silence.

Suddenly, dozens of guards surged from the passageways, weapons raised, their war cries filling the square.

But none could stop him.

It was as though they fought against the wind itself.

Y’s blade flashed like a dark bolt of lightning, his body moving with a speed that defied sight. One by one, the guards fell, scattered across the stone floor. Not once did he falter. Not once did he slow.

The king, desperate, raised his hand. The ground erupted with violent magic, massive pillars of spirit-stone rising to crush his enemy.

Yet in a single instant, Y vanished—then reappeared directly before the king.

His fist struck.

The blow shattered the king’s defenses as though they were made of paper.

In the prison, Anna, L, and Diona rushed through the narrow corridors, breathless as they searched cell after cell. The distant roar of battle echoed like thunder through the stone.

Diona suddenly pressed her ear to the ground, her eyes sharpening.

Diona: “She’s below… I can hear her.”

From behind the bars of a dark cell, a familiar voice rang out:

Ash (shouting): “I’m here!”

L darted forward, breaking the lock with swift precision, then rushed inside to embrace her.

L: “Ash! Are you alright?”

Ash smiled, weary yet unbroken.

Ash: “I’m fine… Thank you for saving me. I saw you enter the kingdom… I knew you’d make it.”

Anna stepped closer, her gaze tracing the shattered restraints.

Anna: “Looks like every guard is too busy with Y.”

Ash exhaled deeply, her voice dropping with sudden gravity.

Ash: “Forgive me, but… I need your help. There’s someone else here. We must find him. His name is Alfred… the true heir of the Spirit Kingdom.”

They exchanged sharp looks, then hurried downward into the deeper levels. The cells here were darker, damper, the very air heavy to breathe.

Ash froze before a distant cell, her eyes widening.

Behind the bars stood a pale man, his presence marked by a quiet, undeniable nobility. His voice trembled in shock:

Alfred: “…Ash?”

The door was opened, and they helped him to his feet. His body was weak from imprisonment, but his eyes still burned with steadfast resolve.

As they moved past the scattered corpses of soldiers littering the corridor, Alfred’s low voice carried disbelief:

Alfred: “All of this… was it your doing?”

Ash shook her head, tilting her gaze upward toward the ceiling, which shook with every distant blow.

Ash: “No… it was his.”

Alfred stood at the edge of the stone passageway, his eyes widening as he gazed into the arena.

There—amidst the smoke of battle and the roar of the crowd—a single human moved unhindered. Nothing stopped him, and no one dared draw near.

Alfred (stunned): “Is that… a human?!”

Ash smiled with an unusual confidence, her voice steady.

Ash: “Yes… his name is Y. He is my leader.”

Anna added with a faint smile, her eyes shimmering with old memories.

Anna: “He always grows serious… whenever it’s about someone he knows.”

In the heart of the plaza, Y stood towering over the crawling Spirit King, gripping him with one hand as though he weighed nothing. He lifted him high, then drove a third punch into his body, the impact echoing through the kingdom, hurling the king’s form rolling across the marble toward the center of the palace.

The Spirit King struggled to rise, falling to his knees as he spat blood, his voice breaking with rage:

Spirit King (shouting): “If you are truly a man… then wait until I unleash my secret technique!”

Y’s gaze was cold, his tone sharp as steel:

Y (with lethal calm): “Do you really think you can defeat me? …Then unleash it.”

The king’s scream tore through the air, and the entire atmosphere trembled beneath the weight of his power.

The Spirit King began drawing upon the vast energy of spirits scattered across the realm. The sky warped into unnatural hues, and the air boiled with a suffocating heat.

Above the royal palace tower, a colossal magic circle of blinding white light took form, its brilliance searing the eyes of all who dared to look.

Alfred (horrified): “This is bad… We have to stop him right now!”

But Ash, her gaze fixed on the gathering storm, showed an uncharacteristic calm. A faint, confident smile touched her lips.

Ash: “Don’t worry… Y is used to attacks like these.”

Alfred shuddered, whispering to himself in disbelief:

Alfred (to himself): “It’s the first time I’ve ever seen Ash trust someone this much… Who is this human?”

The king let out a hoarse, deranged laugh, his eyes glowing with madness.

Spirit King: “You’ll die for your foolishness… You should have killed me when you had the chance!”

Then, he unleashed his ultimate attack.

A cataclysmic wave of spiritual energy surged across the skies, threatening to set the entire realm ablaze. The ground split apart beneath its pressure, and the towering white walls of the kingdom trembled as if on the verge of collapse.

Yet Y did not move.

He stood unmoving, as if time itself had frozen around him.

And when the attack struck him—

The entire explosion was reflected back.

The very same technique he had once used against the demon’s summoned beast… but now on a scale far greater, terrifying beyond imagination.

The wave rebounded toward the king like a raging monster, tearing through the kingdom’s plaza and drowning the palace in a sea of blinding white energy.

The Spirit King’s body crashed to the ground, torn and broken. His eyes widened in disbelief as blood stained the sacred stones.

Spirit King (in a broken voice): “This… wasn’t supposed… to happen…”

His breath faded away, leaving only the echo of his final words to vanish into the silence of the shattered realm.

The silence split apart with a strange voice, echoing from the void.

Voice: “All the magical energy we had gathered… vanished in an instant. That is why I came to see for myself. And now I find you using it… to kill a human? And still lose?”

From the shadows emerged a towering figure, cloaked in black robes that rippled in the wind. His crimson eyes glowed as if they pierced through the very secrets of the world.

He raised his hand slowly. The air thickened, weighed down by a crushing gravity that made even the earth tremble. With a single gesture, he pointed at an abandoned building.

The structure groaned, lifted into the air, and then crashed down with devastating force upon the lifeless body of the Spirit King.

When the dust cleared—there was no trace of the king.

Stranger (sharply): “Why did you protect him? Was he not your enemy?”

Through the smoke, Y stepped forward, his eyes unwavering, his voice low and steady.

Y: “There’s still a conversation between us that hasn’t ended.”

The stranger studied him, his gaze narrowing, contempt mixed with curiosity.

Stranger: “…A human? What is he doing here?”

The air ignited all at once. An overwhelming pressure swept across the battlefield, the ground splitting beneath Y’s feet as shards of stone were hurled into the sky.

Stranger (coldly, with mockery):

“A pleasure to meet you… but this is farewell.”

He lunged forward in a flash, but Y vanished from sight.

In the blink of an eye, Y appeared behind him, launching a sudden kick—yet the stranger blocked it with his arm at the very last moment.

Stranger (startled):

“This… man? Why isn’t he affected by gravity?”

A wicked smile curved across his lips. He shifted the pull of his magic, this time targeting the spirits gathered in the distance. Their bodies were yanked into the air, trembling helplessly in his invisible grip.

Stranger (in a deep voice):

“One wrong move… and they die.”

Y’s eyes sharpened as he studied the scene. Slowly, he lowered his stance, his voice cold and detached.

Y:

“I am not your opponent here.”

He raised his hand, a subtle gesture mirrored by Ash as she stepped out from the wreckage. The winds swirled violently around her, and her eyes blazed with newfound resolve.

Ash stepped forward, memories surging deep within her, a voice echoing from far away—her mother’s voice.

The voice within her:

“When you find people who love you as you are… who carry you without being asked… you must protect them.”

Her lips trembled as she whispered to herself, tears shimmering in her eyes.

Ash:

“I used to hate humans… because they caused my mother’s death.

But Y… he’s different.

I want to be stronger… I want to help him.”

A radiant blaze erupted around her. Three fiery tails unfurled behind her, swaying like living flames. Wind and fire fused into her very body, until her voice rang out like thunder:

Ash:

“Dual Magic—Inferno Tempest!!!”

The heat surged so fiercely the entire kingdom seemed to burn. Flames intertwined with gales, creating a roaring vortex of hellfire. Even the air itself had become a weapon.

The stranger tried to shield himself behind a building, but staggered back, muttering in frustration:

“So now… I’m facing a legendary fox? How bothersome.”

But Ash gave him no time. In a blur, she appeared behind him, her fist blazing with fiery wind. The strike landed with crushing force, hurling him into a stone wall that exploded on impact.

He staggered out of the smoke, panting, blood trailing from his lips. His voice shook with suppressed rage:

“This is bad… to keep fighting would mean certain defeat.”

With a snarl, he raised his hands—dozens of abandoned houses rose into the air, crashing down like raging boulders. Yet before the inferno could consume him further, he pulled out a glowing blue transfer stone. Crushing it in his palm, his body vanished in a flash of light… leaving behind only a suffocating weight in the air.

The stranger staggered, his eyes narrowing as he muttered under his breath:

Stranger:

“This… is troublesome. How am I supposed to explain this to them…?”

Before he could regain his balance, a cold voice cut through the smoke:

Y (coldly):

“So… this is your base?”

Y emerged from the haze, and behind him stood L, Anna, Diona, and Ash.

The stranger froze, shock flickering across his face.

Anna (calmly):

“Look at your hand…”

His gaze dropped—and his eyes widened. A glowing magical rope was coiled tightly around his wrist.

Stranger (stunned):

“…When?!”

L (with an icy smile):

“It was far too easy.”

Y stepped forward, his voice sharp and unyielding.

Y:

“We bound the rope to you… and transferred with you.

Now… we can begin without interruptions.”

The stranger trembled with fury before bellowing:

Stranger:

“You’ve miscalculated! This isn’t a battle of five against one…

It’s seven against five!”

From the shadows, six figures emerged. Their black cloaks bore the insignia of the organization, their presence so heavy it dragged the air into darkness.

A girl stepped forward, her gaze sharp, her voice laced with mockery:

The Girl:

“You always cause us trouble… don’t you?”

Her eyes swept over the group with disdain.

“What a bizarre little party… A human, a vampire, a spirit, an elf, and a half-blood…?”

The stranger let out a low, chilling laugh.

Stranger:

“Be wary of them… especially that human.

Magic doesn’t affect him.”

The sky above churned, dark clouds gathering and roiling, as if heralding an impending explosion. The very air trembled with the promise of chaos.

Spirit Kingdom – The Revelation

Inside the palace, beams of sunlight streamed through the towering windows, scattering across the white marble floor.

Alfred strode forward with hurried steps, his anxious eyes scanning the hall in search of his brother.

Suddenly, he froze.

A body lay sprawled in the center of the chamber, blood pooling around it.

Alfred (alarmed):

“Brother…?!”

He rushed forward, knelt beside him—but the face was wrong.

He staggered back, staring into the lifeless eyes, and roared:

Alfred (furious):

“Who are you?! Where is my brother?!”

The impostor breathed raggedly, his voice faltering:

Impostor:

“In… the secret cell… beneath the palace…”

Alfred spun toward the soldiers surrounding them.

Alfred:

“Free my brother—immediately!”

(Then, in a quieter tone to the dying man)

“I won’t let you die… there is much we still need to discuss.”

He ordered the guards to treat the man and send him to prison under strict watch, then ascended the platform.

Standing tall before the soldiers and the people, his voice rang out like a clarion:

Alfred:

“As you have seen… this was a false king.

My brother… would never commit such acts.”

Shock rippled through the crowd.

Then, suddenly… a quiet voice echoed from deep within the palace:

Voice:

“There is no need for this… Alfred.”

The true king emerged, walking slowly. His face was pale, yet his eyes burned with sincere remorse.

The King:

“Everything that happened… was born of my weakness.

They captured me… while I was powerless.

My friends… I am sorry. But grant me one more chance… to set things right.”

A heavy silence fell.

Then the king’s tone sharpened, commanding, unyielding:

The King:

“Every soldier… lay down your weapon.

This is not a request… it is an order.”

Alfred smiled faintly, his eyes shining with shared resolve.

Alfred:

“Then… let’s do this together, brother.”

Thick fog swallowed the hall. The clash of blades rang like thunder, explosions tore through the haze, as though sky and earth themselves had gone to war. Sparks of fire and lightning split the dust, while distant cries of spirits echoed, bearing witness to a battle unlike any other.

The view shifted between fronts, revealing the chaos—a living canvas of light and blood.

Y vs. Zack and Reinhardt

Zack’s blades carved shining arcs through the air, while Reinhardt’s fists shattered stone with every strike.

Yet Y evaded them both at once, his movements fluid as water, his counterattacks sharp as a scalpel.

Every step he took carried the weight of lethal certainty.

Reinhardt (furious):

“Impossible… How can you fight us as if you were born for this?!”

⸻

Ash vs. the Gravity Wielder

A fireball surged from her palm—then another, and another—like miniature suns desperate to burst free.

The man raised his hand, bending the very air with crushing weight. The flames disintegrated before touching him. He pressed the atmosphere itself against Ash, pinning her to the ground.

Gravity Wielder (smirking):

“It’s over for you.”

He walked toward her slowly, confident the battle was decided…

But behind him, the air suddenly ignited. Flame and wind screamed together.

Ash appeared from nothing, her eyes blazing.

Ash (calm, deadly):

“You’ve been fighting my shadow… not me.”

Her fist slammed into his chest, a torrent of fire and cyclone force bursting through. His body crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

⸻

L vs. Stella

A storm of movement—L’s scythe gleamed with the quiet promise of death, swirling around her foe like a dancer in a funeral waltz.

Sweat poured down Stella’s face; she could barely defend herself before collapsing under a single, clean strike that cut the air with a razor’s song.

L (with a cold smile):

“That was boring.”

⸻

Anna and Diona

Anna fought with steady caution, her sword fused with fire, driving her enemy back. Her flames lit the darkness like a desperate sentinel.

Diona darted nimbly, but no opening revealed itself. Suddenly, she stumbled, and her foe lunged like a beast for the kill.

Before the strike could land, Alfred emerged from the smoke, his blade gleaming under the fiery light. He intercepted the blow, sparks flying with the clash.

Alfred (in a voice cold and firm):

“No harm will touch those who stand by my side.”

⸻

Back to Y

The smoke parted slowly, revealing him like a phantom. Y battled Zack and Reinhardt together without yielding, his eyes locked, unflinching, as though the world had narrowed to only these two opponents.

Reinhardt (stunned):

“A fight of two against one… and he still stands as if we’re equals!”

Zack lunged from behind—but his blade screeched to a halt, stopped by another sword.

Alfred’s brother appeared, eyes glinting with old regret yet standing solid as stone.

Alfred’s Brother (resolute):

“This will be my first step… toward atonement.”

Suddenly…

The battlefield fell silent. The cries of combat melted into a suffocating stillness, as though time itself had contracted.

A colossal aura seeped into the place—an overwhelming force unlike any magic they had ever known. The ground trembled, the walls cracked with solemn majesty, and silence reigned supreme.

From the gray smoke emerged an old man, walking with heavy, assured steps, a stillness of dread surrounding him. His beard was pure white, his long robe trailing like a sorcerous shadow that devoured the gaze. His eyes alone were enough to extinguish the fight without a single word.

The Old Man (in a deep, resonant voice):

“Entering another’s land without permission… is something I cannot forgive.”

Zack froze, his features trembling as though the figure before him were not of this world.

Zack (whispering, voice shaking):

“Dansleif…!”

Heads turned in shock. Terror filled every gaze.

Y (quietly, tense):

“Who is he?”

Alfred (breathing heavily):

“He is… Dansleif. Known as the Sorcerer King.”

Dansleif stepped closer to Y, his eyes fixed on the weapon glowing with strange light.

Dansleif (curious):

“This weapon… seems extraordinary. Give it to me, and leave.”

Y (firm):

“This weapon is not just a tool… it is my partner. And for that… I refuse.”

Dansleif inhaled slowly, then rumbled in a voice that filled the void:

“I see.”

He slammed his staff into the ground. A torrent of destructive lightning burst toward Y—

but Y leapt back with fluid grace, counterattacking in a sudden charge.

Dansleif raised a shimmering barrier, but Y’s weapon pierced through, leaving a deep gash on the old sorcerer’s shoulder.

Dansleif (calm, cold):

“As I expected… this weapon is no ordinary blade.”

He spread his hands, unleashing a barrage of fireballs, explosions engulfing Y from every direction.

Y slipped between them like smoke, his movements swift, elusive, almost dancing among the flames.

He darted behind Dansleif—then stopped abruptly.

Dansleif (surprised):

“Why did you stop?”

Y:

“It’s a trap… I felt it.”

Dansleif smiled in admiration, his voice heavy:

“Excellent senses. No more need for restraint.”

Y (confident):

“A strong opponent… just as I expected.”

Dansleif closed his eyes, chanting ancient words. A crimson light split the heavens.

Dansleif:

“This technique… once used against me by an old friend. Now I’ll use it on you.”

The sky shuddered. A meteor appeared, glowing blood-red.

Y (disdainfully):

“What kind of lunatic would create a technique like this?”

Dansleif couldn’t hold back his laughter, his voice edged with madness:

“A lunatic, yes… but without his madness, we would not be here.”

He struck the ground with his staff, and the meteor streaked down toward Y.

Y braced himself, barely managing to repel it—

but Dansleif waved his hand again.

Dansleif (cold):

“And what about the rest?”

Dozens more meteors tore through the sky, falling like a rain of destruction.

Y fought desperately, but the sheer numbers ripped the land apart.

A colossal explosion shook the entire kingdom.

When the smoke cleared… Y still stood, battered and bleeding, half his body burned, yet gripping his weapon firmly.

Dansleif (in awe):

“Still alive?… Good. It seems you truly are worthy of that weapon.”

His voice turned thunderous:

“But this… will be your end.”

He summoned a meteor vast enough to destroy an entire kingdom, hurling it straight at Y.

Y resisted, but the overwhelming power crushed him beneath the rubble, his body torn.

Dansleif (cold):

“So these are… your human limits.”

But then his eyes widened in shock—

Ash scattered from the ruins, and Y rose amidst the storm, his weapon blazing with radiant power.

He unleashed the gathered energy in a single detonation that struck Dansleif head-on.

The old sorcerer tried to evade, but part of the blast carved a deep wound into his chest.

Dansleif (broken voice):

“You… surpassed your limits, human.”

Y (eyes sharp):

“My name… is Y.”

Dansleif (hoarse, slow):

“Y… You’ve impressed me. I’ll need time… to heal from this wound.”

He studied Y, voice heavy with gravity:

“Why do you still stand? I surpass you in everything: strength… and experience.”

Y:

“Perhaps in strength… but not in experience.”

Silence. Dansleif’s gaze bore into him.

Y (calmly):

“The older is not always the wiser. I proved that to you… with a single strike. Imagine… being reborn, yet keeping all your memories… You understand what I mean, don’t you?”

Dansleif’s face hardened, unease flashing in his eyes.

Y:

“Age and body don’t matter. There are many ways to gain experience. If you don’t kill me now… you’ll never get another chance.”

Then he asked directly:

“Tell me. Do you know of a mad sorcerer… who delights in torturing humans, watching them suffer?”

Dansleif (calmly):

“I know who you mean… but my knowledge of him is limited.”

Y:

“Do you know a way to reach him?”

Dansleif:

“He hides too well. No certain path exists… but there is a way.”

He paused, then asked with cold curiosity:

“Why do you seek him?”

Y (resolute):

“To end his schemes.”

Dansleif smirked faintly, drew out an envelope, and tossed it to Y.

“This… is an invitation to the Academy of Magic. It will activate at the right time. If you survive your wounds… come. I’ll tell you what you seek… when the time is right.”

He narrowed his eyes with a sharp smile:

“And remember… you are the first to wound me like this.”

With a wave of his hand, a spell of teleportation engulfed everyone.

“I’ll deal with the rest… you may go.”

As they vanished, Dansleif muttered to himself:

“Truly… some things never change.”

Then he turned to the seven others, his voice like a blade:

“I’m in a good mood today… so I’ll let you live. But never return here again.”

Y and his companions appeared in the Spirit Realm.

The moment they arrived, Y collapsed onto his back, his body screaming with pain, covered in burns, bruises, and ash.

Ash knelt beside him, placing her hands over his wounds, channeling her magic to ease his agony.

Y (smiling faintly, exhausted):

“That’s better… I’ll rest a little now.”

That night, laughter and music rose within the Spirit Palace, applause echoing through its grand halls. The two brothers had returned to the throne, and joy swept through the kingdom.

They stood before everyone and gave their thanks to Y and his companions.

L (calmly):

“Did you discover the reason for the attack?”

Alfred:

“Yes… they wanted to gather spirit energy to revive someone. But afterward… the prisoner vanished.”

Ash (in a cold tone):

“A contract?… If he spoke, he would die?”

Alfred:

“Perhaps… But with Dansleif’s interference, he will never return here. No one dares provoke him.”

Outside, Y sat upon a rock, gazing at the moon in the quiet night sky, his body wrapped in bandages.

Behind him, Anna, Diona, and L appeared—then gently nudged Ash toward him.

Anna (whispering):

“This is your chance.”

Ash stepped forward shyly, her eyes fixed on the ground, her voice trembling:

Ash:

“I’m sorry… for everything that happened. Sorry for leaving without a farewell.

This is the second time you’ve saved me…

(I don’t deserve to ask this…)

But… may I come back? Can I… join you again?”

(Inside, she thought: It’s fine if he refuses…)

Y smiled softly and said:

Y:

“That’s impossible… choose something else.”

Ash’s heart sank, and she answered in a faint voice:

Ash:

“…I understand.”

But Anna whispered to her:

Anna:

“Look at him…”

Ash raised her eyes—

and there was Y, standing tall, a quiet smile on his lips, the moonlight illuminating his figure like a silent emblem.

Y (gently):

“You can’t join us… because you’re already part of our team.”

(Then he met her eyes directly.)

Y:

“I want to ask you for something…

Can you help me… stand up?”

Ash’s eyes welled with tears.

L pulled her into a warm embrace with a smile:

L:

“Welcome back… again.”

Ash (voice breaking):

“Thank you… all of you.”